Meet me there

When every thought bursts into blank space
And I no longer know what
Or where or who
“I” am
My fingertips will reach, yearn, ache
To find yours
Pleading for you to
Meet me there
At the place where I am lost
And we are found
Lines that separate us
Melting, melding, dissolving
Our skin now a pool of delicious resignation
And we remember what
And who we are
Two beams of light
Merging back to where we started
And where we will end
Into one

Author: Jenny Spitzer

Editor: Caroline Beaton

Photo: Flickr